


Directions

by lamentables



Category: Wilby Wonderful (2004)
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-04-05
Updated: 2008-04-05
Packaged: 2017-10-21 02:42:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/220003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lamentables/pseuds/lamentables
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It all began with paintings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Directions

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you kindly to sisterofdream

Buddy French was 25 by the time he made it to Toronto. Older than he'd planned, but he didn't want to do things in a half-assed way and land back home inside a couple of weeks, his money and his dreams all spent. Now that he was here, after a lifetime of waiting and saving, he wasn't altogether sure what it was he'd come for. When the girl behind the counter of the bookstore invited him to an art show, he said yes. Just in case.

If he was honest, it was the lure of free drinks that had persuaded him. That and the way the bookstore girl responded to his idle flirting. He'd been wrong about her though, because there was no mistaking the way she was hitting on the artist, a skinny girl all black hair, hollow eyes and black lace. He tried to imagine the fragile, black-tipped hands holding a paintbrush, filling one of the big canvases on the wall. Instead he found himself remembering the summer days he'd spent lying on Duck MacDonald's bed watching as Duck painted and repainted. They'd all looked good to him, but Duck was never happy.

He rolled the tiny glass between his hands weighing the attraction of sickly white wine for free against paying for beer in a nearby bar. He could smoke in a bar too. He abandoned the wineglass against a pile of flyers for forthcoming exhibitions and slipped out through the fire exit which had been propped open in a vain attempt to cool the crowded gallery.

Outside the air was just as hot and sticky and he leaned heavily against the wall as he lit up, closing his eyes with the first drag. God he needed that. He felt slow and tired the way he'd always felt at the end of school, when the only thing that could shake the heaviness was to run down to The Watch with Duck and share one of the cigarettes he'd bummed.

"Hey, got a light? Jesus, it's stuffy in there. In every sense."

She was small, with a tangle of permed hair and long, mismatched earrings, and hands that flapped impatiently as he fumbled in his pocket. "I don't know why I expected this one to be different. Every time she invites me it's the same. Pretentious. Precious. They're all so desperate to break the rules, but they wouldn't recognise an iconoclast if one bit them on the ass. I'm Carol."

"Buddy." He let her steady his hand as he lit her cigarette. "Know where there's a bar round here? I really need a beer."

"Well, the closest one is just across the street," she pointed. "No, down a little. See?" He did.

"But you don't want to go there, that's where this crowd will end up," she gestured at the door to the gallery. "Then there's another one on the same side, about ten minutes walk in the other direction. They stay open late, but you probably shouldn't go there because it's a bit pricey?" Buddy nodded.

"So, what you want is Alice's. Turn right at the corner here, first left and it's about three doors down on the left hand side. You'll like it there."

He dropped his butt, grinding it out with his shoe, and watched her walk away. She stopped and turned. "Well? Do you want a beer or not?"

He caught up with her as she reached the corner.


End file.
